Come on Home
by Ariste
Summary: A story of betrayal, lust, love, and freedom.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: we own nothing that looks like it isnt ours. ENJOY!

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It was a cold and gloomy morning as Lancelot stood outside the main wall. Anxious and alert, he waited, not sure of what to expect. Life had taken an unusual turn. 

Through the mist of the fresh morning he could see the forest in the distance. Dark shadows loomed through the trees. They were ghostly apparitions, blue demons in purgatory. She was one of them. The woman they had sprung from the cell of Marius' estate, who asked about his homeland, and whom he watched in the dark------Guinevere.

Thoughts of the day before passed through Lancelot's mind. He was not sure of what to think about the previous day's events. It had all come too fast, rush all at once and the vision was somewhat blurred in his mind.

He raised a hand to run through his curls and exhaled. There was an ache present in his lungs and he winced slightly. _It wasn't supposed to be like this…_

He sighed leaning his head against the wall and looked up at the sky. _Dagonet, my dear friend…_He thought. _Yeah were taken too fast…_ They had clamed victory yesterday, if victory was the right way to put it. They had, after all, lost one of their knights. He should have been content, been happy that he survived, but he wasn't and he knew, neither were the other knights.

Lancelot's left hand grasped the small scroll, his freedom. _Freedom…_He laughed to himself breathlessly. Yes, his freedom was brought down to this, a tiny scroll of parchment. It was thin and easily torn. _This is my freedom, _he thought sarcastically. Freedom, he knew wasn't this fragile, but he know, neither was it tangible. Over the years Lancelot had come to realize that one was free from their first breath and so, thus, an individual could not just be "granted" with it. It was Arthur who had taught the knights this. But of course, Arthur was also a Christian, brought down to his knees by a god whom he claims has given him strength. The knights were pagans, and so, it made sense their realization of Christian words took fifteen years to settle in and take root in their minds.

Lancelot was caught in a state of incoherent thought until the snap of a twig underneath his foot brought him back into reality. He straightened in his leaned posture and took one last glance at the forest before taking his leave back to the fortress. They would be wondering where he was if he was gone for too long.

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AN: Now it's time for you to Review, Review, Review! 


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

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The sun had risen, warming the vast land. As Lancelot made his way through the courtyard he took little notice to the life going on around him. It all seemed so insignificant to him. Had it been any other day he would have taken notice to the set of eyes that were closely observing his every move.

He moved slowly, still lost in a deep thought of confusion, pain, and sorrow. His head pounded due to the lack of sleep that he so desperately needed. If only he could go back to his youth, a time when he welcomed adventure and the thrill at the thought of an approaching battle. He may not have been free, but at least he had received some happiness in his rather empty life. Yes, he may have friendship now, but what he truly wanted in his heart was a home, love, and peacefulness; Something Arthur and his fellow knights could never give to him.

Lancelot took a seat on the bench. He needed to rid his mind of these troubling thoughts. A bar maiden made her rounds, bringing mugs of ale to the Roman soldiers. As she brought a mug to him she saw the look on his face and asked softly, "Something troubling you Lancelot?"

It was a lure, he knew, and as he looked up at her, it was confirmed by the hungry stare within her eyes. Any other day he would have put on a charming smile and answered back with flirtation and cool arrogance. But instead he remained silent, giving her an annoyed look and ignoring her until she walked away. He was not acting like himself, he knew.

It wasn't long until he was overcome with the uneasy feeling of being watched. He withdrew his mug and scanned the courtyard ----- no one. He drew his eyes up to the fortress. His eyes stopped on a window where a curtain was swaying mysteriously. Some one, indeed, had been watching him. With some hesitation, he went back to his mug.

He didn't recognize his own thirst until he met the bottom of his mug. Lancelot set is down on the table almost irritably and looked over his left shoulder. He observed the courtyard----no knights. The atmosphere was so different. The joyous, light-hearted tone was gone and was replaced by the eerie and unsettling silence. He took a deep breath and wondered if he should retreat to his room. It was early but he had no place to be, no one to see. So, really he had no reason to stay.

He retreated to his room; this was not a common experience for him. He almost always has a luscious young maiden in his company upon returning to his chamber. This time however, he didn't seem to care about the change. Somehow, he had lost the thrill that he used to gain so easily through the desire that a woman's eyes would show for him.

Now he saw that it was just that, desire…lust…nothing more. It was all just empty pleasure. In the end it went no where. He would once again be left alone, only to repeat the same act night after night.

He stood in the dim, musty room, staring out the only window, hardly big enough for a small child to fit through.

Lancelot was lost in a daze of thought when suddenly he was brought back to the present moment by a sharp urgent knock on the thick wooden door.

He hesitated. Who knew to find him there? It was still early and he would not be expected to return for some time yet, unless they had seen him return.

His curiosity got the better of him. He quickly strode the short length of the room to the door, wondering if the person was even still there. Pulling open the door, he found himself staring into a pair of deep brown eyes.

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_A/N: __KnightMaiden & __Anya509: Thank you for the lovely reviews and you shall both soon see who the pairing is...and to everyone else please submit those reviews!_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

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She stood in the corridor twirling the scroll of parchment between her fingers as a soft smile played on her lips. Lancelot ran his hand over his shirt to where the parchment should have been tucked, but it was gone. _Lancelot how can you be so careless?_ It was his ticket to freedom; without it, he could go nowhere. He looked up at Guinevere.

"It never occurred to me that you were a pick pocket?" he said, taking the parchment from her.

"You left it," Guinevere said bluntly. "I know how much it means to you."

He nodded, "True Lady…" he said never breaking his gaze from her, "So tell me how you knew where my quarters were, and nonetheless know I was here?"

Was it her stare that had burned at his back? Her eyes that had watched him? Was she the figure that had been standing in the window? A wicked smile played on his lips, the same charming one he had deprived the bar maiden of earlier that day.

"But what hassles me the most…" he started, "Is how did you know that it was _I _that dropped it?"

Guinevere said in a most mysterious tone, "I have a few more tricks that may interest you, _Lancelot_."

She looked at him with a strange glint in her brown eyes, one that he could not quite interpret. So he just replied, "Would you care to share them with me my Lady?"

"Perhaps some day when you are ready or perhaps when you can…" but her voice trailed, she wanted to leave him with a bit of curiosity and that she did. For the next question to leave his lips was, "Perhaps when I can what?"

"Perhaps when I know that you can keep a secret." Lancelot was unsure how to respond to her statement so he just said, "Well that just depends on the type of secret that it is."

He had only known her for three days and yet, in his mind it seemed like for ever.

His hand itched to reach out and caress her fair skin and run his fingers through her long dark hair, but he resisted.

Lancelot choked slightly but luckily he managed to hide it as a cough. She was still staring at him. She had not responded to his statement. Her dark eyes were unwavering in her stare. She was intentionally driving him crazy with her prolonging silence.

Knowing the he wouldn't get a word out of her he leaned foreword slightly.

"This secret… can you give me a hint as to what it might be?" his voice was low, a sweet whispering of seduction.

He was not ready for what she did next. She reached behind him placing her warm hand on the back of his head, leaning in towards him and whispered in his ear, "But if I were to tell you now it would be no fun later when the time comes."

She turned to leave, Lancelot stood in a daze wondering what she had meant by the statement.

Just when Guinevere was almost out of his reach, he caught her by her slim wrist. "When shall I find out?" he asked.

"When I can see that you are ready."

Then why even tease me, Lady? He thought almost desperately. His grasp greatly tightened around her slender wrist. Touching her had been his mistake and being this close he only wanted more.

The arrogant smile reappeared, "I am r-," but he was cut short.

"Lancelot!"

The familiar voice shouted down the corridor. Hearing it he released his hold on Guinevere's wrist quickly and turned to face the man striding down the hall.

"Lancelot," Arthur said with a hint of relief in his voice, "I've been looking for you."

"Looking for me, where, when? I never saw you."

"We are about to commence," his commander took a deep breath and when he spoke again his words were filled with pain, "Dagonet's funeral."

Lancelot furrowed his brows, "Of…of course."

Arthur nodded putting his hand on his first knights shoulder. Lancelot could see his friend's stare move form him to the person behind him and his eyes slightly warmed, "Guinevere? What are you doing here?"

She pointed to the scroll of parchment in Lancelot's hand.

Arthur nodded and kept his eyes on her. Lancelot knew that his commander had feelings you the woman and Lancelot wondered if being this close to Guinevere was wronging Arthur.

Wanting to put and end to the intense situation Lancelot said, "Well, we should get going, don't want to keep anyone waiting."

He was silently scolding himself having forgotten about the event that would be taking place in honor of his late friend.

The short comfort that he had felt when Guinevere had appeared at his door quickly disappeared as though it had never been experienced at all.

The mood was somber as the three walked together. Arthur was in the middle with Lancelot to his right and to his left Lady Guinevere.

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_A/N: Will be updated soon so review!_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Eyes affixed on the mound of fresh earth. All could hear the soft crackle of the torch. He blinked once, twice. Soft mumbles.

They had all spoken their words of reverence. They all had shared in the sweet memories and painful smiles. They had all the same, lost a knight, friend, a brother. Another seat would again be left unoccupied. Denial would rise again in the soul of the fortress. Only in death could he be free.

Lancelot felt his heart pounding in his ears. All around him people stood with bowed heads, offering up a moment of silence in honor of their fallen friend.

Long after all had gone Lancelot stood at the grave site. Once again he stood in deep, lost in his painful thoughts.

However this time he wasn't completely alone. In the near distance stood another.

He did not notice the figure at first. Perhaps he was too engaged in his own thoughts but, she was there all the same. The knight turned to make his way back to the fortress when he saw her. Her small frame was outlined by the rays of the sun and her long dark hair billowed in the wind. Her back was turned to him and from his standing place he could see she was watching as Arthur went back to the fortress.

He tightened his jaw slightly and tried to turn his attention away from Guinevere. She is Arthur's…not yours…he thought.

He knew that if he were to get involved in anyway other way then friendship someone would end up hurt. That was the last thing anyone needed at the moment.

The times were hard and he had always been by Arthur's side, to betray him in such a way would be unforgivable. He could never betray a fellow knight and friend in such a dishonorable way. The outcome would be devastation for the pair of them.

Alone, in the dark, once again Lancelot made his way back to the fortress. Pushing the Lady Guinevere out of his mind, trying so desperately not to fall into the endless temptation she held over him. However over the days to follow he would find this considerably hard to do even though it was not what he wanted to happen.

Where ever he went she seemed to be there. Whenever he thought she would come to his mind, who ever he talked to they seemed to mention her. It was a lost cause, no matter what he did all came back to her and the way that she made him feel when she was near.

He was beginning to become frustrated with himself for allowing someone to effect him is such a powerful way, she was only a women. Not just a woman though, she was somehow different from all of the rest. She had an enchanting power over him that no one had ever had before. A power that seemed to mystify and control every aspect of his life, his breaths, thoughts, and movements.

It was late evening, Lancelot was in the stables. He leaned against the door of his horse's stall. He was contemplating over troubling thoughts and recent dilemmas. He took a deep breath and released it slowly. He still couldn't believe what had just taken place. There was only one single thought present in his mind at the moment, and for the first time in days it wasn't Guinevere, but of Arthur…he was staying…

"After all these years…After all we've been through…" he said to himself quietly as he shook his head. Why did the man choose to stay? He was granted freedom and now he insists on staying.

A dark thought loomed in the back of his mind. Was Arthur's decision to stay influenced by Guinevere? Was she to blame? For a moment Lancelot wondered how these thoughts came into being. For some reason he believed they were true, but he hated the fact that he was blaming Guinevere.

He pushed himself off the stall door, frustrated, and ran his fingers through his hair. Lately his thoughts were becoming the best of him.

Lancelot heard a shuffle coming from the stable entrance. He turned around and that's when he saw her standing in between the shadows, even in the darkness she was beautiful.

"Guinevere?" he asked taking a step toward her; had she been there the entire time, "Why are you in here?" he asked with curiosity.

"I thought you had retreated to your room like the others?"

She looked at him and smiled weakly, "Lancelot," his name sounded far sweeter on her lips. She stepped out of the shadows and into the moonlight. Lancelot's eyes were on her but her own were scanning the stable.

"The horses of your fallen knights…" she said walking in his direction, she ran her hand over the stable doors she passed. As she looked into the stables, until she stopped a stall away from Lancelot. "Do you set them free?" she said at last looking up at him.

"It is how it should be is it not?" he replied.

"Yes, all should be free," she paused for a moment taking a step closer, "free and happy…are you happy Lancelot?" she inquired.

"Does that matter?" he returned.

"Of course it does, everyone deserves to be happy," she said.

"All may deserve happiness yet, we all do not have its luxury." He said rather

She showed no change in her emotion as she said, "What is stopping it from coming to you?"

"It's complicated," he replied.

She stepped even closer hearing his breath catch and said, "Your words are those of a man who had little emotion yet your face betrays you, don't pretend to be someone that you Lancelot are not, for I can see it in your eyes, you know very well why you do not have the happiness that you deserve."

"If you can see in my eyes a man of honor and loyalty then yes they do betray me, but do not accuse me of trying to be unhappy for it is for those that I love I suffer the most," he said in a rough tone, he wished for her to just leave, he was desperately pushing her away.

Yet she only took another step closer, "but you can be all that and still be happy."

"Do not pretend to know that in which I speak," he said.

She stepped closer still, he did not know how much longer he could resist falling into lust and temptation. He tried to remain in control as she said, "Can you blame me?"

"That I could never do," he muttered helplessly.

This time as she reached up to pull his head closer it was not just to whisper, he felt her warm, soft lips on his cheek. He had not time to recover or react before once again the Lady Guinevere disappeared into the shadows of the night.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

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And so again the knight stood in silence, surrounded once more in shadows. What should he do? Retreat to his room and try to forget what had just taken place or should he follow her.

The knight placed his back against the wall as his eyes peered out of the stable doors.

Even in the cold of the night he could feel her warmth upon him. Lingering upon that simple yet sweet reminder he chose the later of the two decisions.

Lancelot strode out of the stables, hoping that the woman hadn't traveled too far. He had made up his mind. This wasn't betraying Arthur, he told himself. Lancelot knew he could not leave this fortress without telling the woman how he felt and obviously neither could she.

He caught her walking along the wall. Her movement was graceful, he posture independent, he body was altogether beautiful.

Lancelot ran up to her and grabbed her by her slender wrist. She turned around to face him, a soft smile spread on her lips. "Guinevere…" he gasped.

Without another word Lancelot pinned her against the wall and kissed her passionately. Finally letting his lust free he found himself in a state of ecstasy.

When he felt the wonderful sensation of her fingers tangling in his hair, Lancelot wrapped an arm around her waist while the other caressed her smooth neck. She felt so powerful yet soft in his arms.

He could feel her pulling him closer and even though his lungs ached for air he did not want to break the kiss that he had been longing for so long.

Guinevere had pulled away first and gasped for air. Her lips were swollen from the greedy and passionate kiss and he guess that his were too.

Lancelot leaned against her shoulder. He could feel the rising and falling of her chest, her rugged breath against his ear. Their breathing slowly beginning to normal.

"I would know happiness…" he murmured against her shoulder, "with you."

"Then I will give you that in which you need, for I long for it as well," she said.

Deep down Lancelot know that it would be the wrong thing to do. She must have noticed the change in his face as he thought through the complex situation that had arisen, "What is it?" she asked.

One word said it all, "Arthur," muttered Lancelot.

"He need not know," Guinevere whispered, tracing Lancelot's face with her smooth fingers.

Lancelot's mind was too clouded to think anymore on the matter. He leaned into finish where they had left off as though there had been no interruption.

Lancelot moved from her mouth down to her neck, sending a shower of feathery kisses along her jaw line, down to her collar bone. Claiming her, she was all his at that moment. He desperately needed her, but Lancelot had an uneasy feeling upon him as if they were being watched and worse he felt as if it were Arthur's eyes on him full of blame and betrayal. With this image in his head Lancelot pulled away form Guinevere.

"What?" she asked. Lancelot looked over his shoulder searching for a pair of nonexistent eyes. He could feel Guinevere's fingers caress his jaw and he slowly turn his face to meet hers. She smiled softly and leaned forward to kiss him tenderly, but even with that simple pleasure, he still felt uneasy. "Come…" he murmured against her lips as he took her hand to lead her to his chambers. He knew as well as she, that they could not continue here.

As they made their way back to the fortress numerous thoughts flashed in the knight's mind. Why are you doing this? She is not yours. She is Arthur's. You lost your chance that night she came to you in the snow. You are betraying him…his guilty conscience continued to call. Luckily he managed to push all of those thoughts aside for the time being.

Almost there, he thought. The corridors were long and narrow and he cursed under his breath due to his impatience.

No sooner then he had closed the door to his chambers then he felt Guinevere's hands warp around him. He became lost in the moment forgetting everything else, freedom, death, and Arthur. Nothing else mattered or ruled over his life, it was now only Guinevere.

Lancelot lied on his bed, the sun had not yet risen and Guinevere had just left not wanting anyone to find her absent come dawn.

He could not remember feeling the way that he felt with Guinevere ever before. All others didn't matter. Now though he had bigger problems the guilt had settled over him. He did not regret what they had just done however; he did feel guilty about betraying his closest friend. Now it was all too late, it had happened, and there was no going back now.


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